The years had passed by, winter had been replaced by spring, and in turn summer had come and given spring a quick death. It was unfathomably hot in Volantis, the capital of Valyria. The seat of House Volcarys, the new dragonlords, who had come from Westeros and brought the empire back together after nearly three hundred years of its ending during the Doom. There was peace in the lands that had once been and now were part of Valyria once more. The Dothraki, those savages who had come out of the waste of the Doom, and retreated back to their own place of refuge, the city where none would dare harm them, Vaes Dothrak held the savages for now, but for how long no one truly knew. The horse lords were not a people to bend and cower for very long, the years without dragons had made them rash and fearless, and soon enough they would strike out, and either burn or conquer those that had once been theirs.
Aenar Volcarys, the first of his name, King of Valyria, knew all of this. He had been taught to expect nothing but threats from the Dothraki by his father and his counsellors, those who had lived in Valyria their whole lives. But he was not afraid, his father had showed the Dothraki the price of threatening those of the blood, when he had burned Khal Rojo and his Khalasar to ash, those who had escaped- and they had been few- had been captured and sold into slavery or had been allowed to flee back to Vaes Dothrak, the warning on their lips. Aenar knew that if the fools tried to sack one of his cities, he would burn them all, superstition and tradition be damned, and none would threaten his father's hard work. He had been king for eight years now, and in that time he had brought the Slaver Cities, Mantarys, Tolos and Elyria as well as Bravos to heel. All bowed before the dragon now, and so they would for the rest of time, if Aenar had his way.
He still remembered the conquest of Bravos that was his finest achievement; it was what he was remembered for already. The King who had brought that city, the place that had escaped the Freehold's notice for so long, he had brought them to heel. With fire and steel, he and his men had waged a yearlong campaign from sea and from the air they had fought those who held Bravos. It was a bloody war, as inch by inch the Valyrians took the city, the Sealord held out for a long, long time. He had the resources to fight and kill Aenar's generals, and he had used them, bleeding Aenar of the men who had served in his father's campaigns in the rest of Essos, as well as with Aenar himself in taking the Slaver cities. There had been points where Aenar had been worried, worried that perhaps he had overreached, had gone for the big goal to early, and that his father's hard work would all fall apart around him.
After all, Aenar was not so foolish as to believe that the men who followed him those who commanded the armies from Lys, Tyrosh, Myr and Pentos would stay loyal should they sense even a moment's weakness in him. It was to his father they had bent the knee once he had broken them, his father whose strength they had followed, as far as they were concerned Aenar was still a green boy, someone whose strength was as of yet untested. Had he failed to take Bravos, the empire would have broken, as piece by piece the various lords sought to bring their independence back, and that was something Aenar could not allow, not even if it had killed him.
Thankfully it had not, the Sealord stubborn fool that he had been had eventually been brought chained and bound before Aenar as spring had broken in Bravos, brought to Aenar by a kindly old man, who spoke little except to say. "Bravos does not wish to burn Your Grace, we have given you our foolish lord in exchange for peace. We shall bend the knee." And so they had, Aenar had named his brother Daegon as the Prince of Bravos and wed him to one of the leading Bravosi noble's daughter, a match his counsellors told him would benefit him. So far it had, there had been no trouble from Bravos, and his brother had gotten his wife with child three times, each pregnancy successful. There was trade between the various cities that made up the empire, and the coffers of the royal treasury swelled up with the trade links Bravos had with Westeros as well as with the Summer Islands and even Ibben.
Ibben, now that had been a headache for Aenar, he had taken it early on in his reign, the foolishness of youth convincing him that taking the place would be good for his reputation. It had shown he would not be hesitant in taking what he wanted, but the Ibbenese were a tough bunch, they had killed many of his men including the person he had left in charge once the conquest was done, one of their own, and so he had been forced to return to Ibben and had put all those who had rebelled to the sword or fed them to the dragons. That had bought him some more peace, for the time being but he knew not how long the peace would last this time. And he was beginning to worry he might need to head north once more to deal with yet another rebellion. Something he truly did not wish to do, Valyria was whole once more, and he truly did not wish to continue waging war, his lords were happy, as they well should be, trade was booming. If Ibben rebelled once more, Aenar thought as he watched the people below the castle move about, he would burn the island to a cinder and make it a ruin, just like Valyria the island where his ancestors had come from now was.
"Your Grace?" Aenar heard the tentative voice of Ser Dorros, the loyal knight who had come with his father from Westeros all those years ago.
"Yes Ser? What is it?" Aenar asked softly, so as not to wake his wife or his children who were sleeping in the room next door.
"There has been a raven from Prince Daegon." Ser Dorros replied.
Aenar held out his hand and read the letter; his face gradually began to tighten as he read the letter. "So my brother believes that there is someone within court who is plotting against me? What does Sharko have to say about this, does he know my brother suspects him?"
"No Your Grace, Sharko knows not. Though he suspects something is amiss. The fact that you asked him not to write to Pentos with the tax dues has alerted him to the possibility that you might suspect him of something." Ser Dorros answered softly.
Aenar sighed slightly. Sharko Lys, the Lord Seneschal of the southern provinces of Valyria, was a trickster someone Aenar had come to rely on when it came to dealing with the intricacies of court politics, something he had never had time for. Now though, now he suspected the man of treachery, just as his brother did. It was why his voice became very, very soft when he spoke next. "Send for my brother, Prince Gaemon. I would hear what he has to say about all of this."
"Are you sure that is wise Sire? After all Prince Gaemon is under Sharko tutelage nonstop for this very reason, if we were to ask for him now, would that no raise the man's own suspicions?"
Aenar sighed; he supposed the man spoke sense. "Very well. Forget that command, but tell the city watch I want the man watched night and day. His comings and goings shall be reported to you, and if one of those blasted men is lying they shall be fed to the cannibal. Now send for my mother."
Ser Dorros bowed and walked out of the room, a little while later the doors to the room opened once more, and Aenar's mother Queen Dowager Nettles walked in. Aenar knew it was his mother, by the way her boots clanged on the floor, his mother never wore slippers, had never worn slippers for as long as he could remember. She was feared for many reasons, but Aenar thought her iron boots should be one of those reasons. "You sent for me Your Grace?" Aenar smiled slightly, his mother always called him that when they thought they were being listened to.
"Read this mother, it came from Bravos this morning." Aenar said handing his mother the letter, whilst not taking his eyes from the window.
He knew when his mother had stopped reading by her sharp intake of breath. "Surely he cannot be serious. He thinks that the man who has helped you rule for so long would betray us, and for what? Bravos has fallen, the empire is complete, who else is there that would stand in your way?"
Aenar sighed once more. "There are those hiding in the under growth mother. Those who would see all that father worked for undone. Those that did not like Valyria when it first sat. We must work hard to see that what they wish does not come to pass. That is why there are those who I know and trust watching the man, watching him with every fibre I know they will."
"And what of Gaemon? Do you think to use your own brother in a plot to remove this man from power?" His mother asked, the accusation lacing her tone.
Aenar sighed. "I do not wish to mother. I have to. It is the only way to prove what I believe to be true. My lords will not believe otherwise, and then all I have worked for will be undone. Gaemon will remain where he is, but should it seem as if his life is in danger, I shall remove him from harm's way."
His mother was still not impressed. "What Bravos suggests would put your brother in even more danger than he already is in. I do not like it Aenar, I like it not one bit. Why not send someone else to do the job? Why Gaemon?"
Aenar sighed once more. "It is the only way to get the man to speak. Gaemon has told me, that the man is careless in his manner of speaking around him. Once he has enough evidence, he shall bring it to me, and the man shall go down in the dust. He shall not remain alive once this information has been collected and presented."
His mother sighed and said. "Very well, I hope you know what you are doing." With that she left the room, leaving Aenar to his thoughts.
He remained seated for a long time after that, mulling over all that he would need to do. He needed to make sure his brother remained safe, and that the man never suspected that his own king thought him guilty of treason. The words Daegon had written in his letter severly worried Aenar, and he knew that soon enough it might come to war within the city unless he acted on what his brother had reported. This was why he needed to have Gaemon close to the man; otherwise the plan would never work.
The sound of the bedroom door creaking made Aenar turn his around, he saw his wife Rhaenys walking towards him, wearing nothing but a sleeping shift, and he felt something within him stir at the sight of her. Still when she came and sat in his lap, it was not for pleasure that she sought, instead she spoke clearly. "What news my love?" Aenar sighed and then began to relate all that Daegon had written in his letter, the happenings in Bravos, and the rumours and proofs of these rumours about Sharko Lys. His sister sat and listened in rapt attention for all of it, and then once he was done she spoke calmly once more. "Does the man know he is being watched?"
Aenar sighed and said. "I believe not. If he did our brother would be dead, and there would be war in the streets. He is rather popular you know, why father appointed him as Lord Seneschal before his death I shall never know."
Rhaenys chuckled slightly against his chest then and said. "Ah yes, of course. Still you must tread carefully brother. We hold Valyria now, but the man knows things about our family that could ruin our reputation. Especially considering father's past."
Aenar sighed then and said. "I know my love. Still that is a matter for another time. How are the children doing?"
His wife hummed slightly as he kissed her neck and ear. "They are well my love. Aegon and Baelor are with Maester Gerdarys being taught all about Westeros. Visenya and Daenys are with mother now, doing some sewing or some such."
Aenar nodded and then was about to speak when there was a knock on the door, calling for whomever it was to come in, Aenar was surprised to find himself looking at a very haggard looking Ser Dorros. The man did not speak, instead he handed Aenar a letter which he then read, and felt his heart sink. Ibben was rebelling once more.